


he prefers red

by bowtiesnrocksalt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: At the moment or forever, Destiel! - Freeform, Except when you're not shipping them with someone else, I was listening to Lana Del Rey don't judge, It's midnight YAYYYY, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Sabriel's good, Some blood kink stuff, This came up, Very sabriel, gotta love it, mentions of Destiel, much good, not much though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2855828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowtiesnrocksalt/pseuds/bowtiesnrocksalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels are greedy and demons are submissive. </p><p>Dean kissed him that one time. </p><p>And in the end, both Gabriel and Sam prefer </p><p>red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he prefers red

**Author's Note:**

> please don't ask me why I wrote this because I don't have an answer. 
> 
> I didn't look it over that much so forgive any mistakes and.. happy holidays? 
> 
> I dunno. 
> 
> Bye Felicia

Sam Winchester wasn’t a girl and Sam was not kissing Gabriel with all teeth and no lips. Sam did not have curves and he did not have a painted face. Sam was not a girl and Gabriel couldn’t handle it, so he crushed it all into bite marks and bruised hips. He translated his anger into a foreign language that only he understood and forced himself to utter it in English when his lips grazed the curve of her ear for the sake of her small, lost mind. A mind that wasn’t great and endless like Sam’s. A mind that didn’t make the time to analyze the pages of tattered books or store completely random, useless facts that no one else knew. It was her mind. A small, lonely, and shrouded place that he did not care to explore. 

Sam would not look good tied up in red silk. Black was more his color as Gabriel had learned one day during church by a tie that was probably handed down from his bastard of a father. The girl beneath him, though, did. Her lips matched the glossy sheen of fabric at her wrists and the small rubies that erupted from her flesh did, too. It all tied in together with the girl. It all could be put into one sentence; he could find one word to describe her with and he gently writes them out with the point of the blade with a mind not to break the flesh. Sam, though, would take thousands of sentences. He’d take words that Gabriel probably has never heard of and perhaps there wasn’t a way to describe Sam. A sort of ineffable thing, Sam was. 

‘Lust’ is written on her hip. It’s the only thing he feels for her and promises himself that it’ll remain that way. With heavy breaths she strains against the red silk but not out of fear because they’d talked about it. They went over it for at least an hour because Gabriel was a gentleman. He was. 

He

was. 

His fingernails dig small slivers of red crescents into her impossibly pale skin and he finds that sort of irritated color to be ugly. He prefers the pure, unobstructed scarlet. 

He prefers

red.

He leaves her in a pool of it. 

-

Sam’s eyes have changed to hazel. Near the pupils he can see small flecks of gold huddling near the blackness; a shade of gold not very different from his. He doesn’t concentrate much on the color of Sam’s eyes, though, because he pulls out sunglasses and Gabriel pulls a face. He’s quiet, though, and proceeds to sip his red icy with a scowl and a few glances towards Sam. His eyes are closed, too, because the summer’s not really a time to keep them open. The sun is bright and merciless which leaves Gabriel with an answer to his question as to why Sam had to put on his sunglasses right when he was looking into them. Gabriel doesn’t think he noticed, though. Sam just wasn’t the kind to see the obvious and that part of Sam both annoyed and was alright with Gabriel. On one hand it was just another trait to fit in with the rest of the impossibly complex Sam Winchester. On the other it made him silently froth with rage because with Sam missing the obvious, like Gabriel’s mad crush on him for example, Gabriel knows that he’ll have to confess anything he feels about Sam out loud. To Sam. 

Dammit. 

-

Angels are grabby and greedy; contrary to what they stand for, of course. They always reach out with hungry, dark eyes towards Gabriel’s triplet set of wings and Gabriel always denies them. It’s something he saves for Sam, he explains silently, and he makes up for it by sending hot pulses of Grace gliding over theirs. 

Angels are also more lenient with sex than they let on. At times they’ll even suggest things Gabriel’s never even heard before and it never stops surprising him. He agrees to most of them, though, as long as he gets to do what he prefers. 

And Gabriel prefers red. 

-

Sam, in spite of the many mishaps in the woods Dean and he have had, likes to hike. Gabriel finds this terribly ironic as he follows after him, brushing past low branches with ease, as the nickname ‘Moose’ comes to his mind whenever he lays eyes on him marching on through the woods. Eventually they reach a meadow with a small creek west of it and set up camp. Sam insisted on bringing tents despite Gabriel’s assurances that it wasn’t going to rain. They set up the tents just for something to do though the sky was, as predicted, clear. 

By nightfall the two had eaten and lay on a fleece blanket near the fire. Above them the sky was a pure plum with smatterings of silver. A display that left Sam with a small smile that Gabriel relished with blood burning hot in his veins. 

Sam fell asleep on the blanket. 

Gabriel carried him into the tent and retreated into his own. 

-

Demons are almost hilariously submissive during sex. Break past the bloodlust (something Gabriel didn’t completely hate) and pitch black eyes and they pretty much roll over for you. Gabriel could appreciate that. He could appreciate their eagerness towards a knife pressing down on their human vessels because Gabriel would barf if he had to do them in their true, hideous forms. 

Not to mention it’d be like pounding into a bag of bones. 

Literally. 

-

Sam kisses him. Gabriel forgets where or when but it was night time and they were hidden. It was near pitch black and it only spurred Gabriel on more; his lips pressing eagerly against Sam’s with a need hidden for he forgets how long. Sam, fortunately enough, catches on to the pace and in less than a few seconds –minutes? Hours? Years?- there’s tongue and teeth and it’s all clashing. Gabriel straddles Sam’s hips and near whines with the need to keep going and to keep close. 

Sam says something and Gabriel doesn’t know what it is, but his chest hurts afterwards. 

-

Dean’s kissed him once and it wasn’t anything like Sam. Dean was rough and demanding; pulled and twisted his hands at his hips and hair. The kiss was purely out of anger towards Gabriel and he didn’t mind it; let it go on for the sake of Dean’s sanity and well-being because he cared. Yeah, he cared. 

He cared enough to let Dean do what he felt he needed to. 

He cared enough to erase the memory when Dean fell asleep after. 

-

Castiel has never touched Gabriel and Gabriel’s completely alright with that. Castiel was meant for Dean and Dean only. 

Castiel was meant for Dean and only Castiel knew it. 

-

Sam is made of hard lines and edges; tanned skin to soften it out though it didn’t do that good of a job. Gabriel finds his fingers mapping out the lines and contours of Sam’s body; every motion careful and burned into his memory. Sam keens under his touch and air leaves his lungs quick and heavy; his voice sometimes following suit and making noises Gabriel promises to remember for as long as he lives. 

-

Sam’s got metal in his mouth and it’s cold. Gabriel watches tears flood from his ever-changing eyes and his hands are shaky. Gabriel wants to tear the hunk of metal away but Sam says he’ll keep trying and the words leave craters in Gabriel’s heart.

There’s a crater in Sam’s mouth and skull, too. 

Sam’s mouth tastes of copper and gunpowder- gunpowder he wished he could have taken away. 

Gabriel wants to wake him up –he can and he knows it- but Sam said he’d keep on trying. Gabriel repeats a question said by humans since day one and Sam’s name becomes a mantra. A prayer to summon Gabriel only when it addresses the man with ever-changing eyes who likes hikes and learning random facts.  
Gabriel looks to answer his question. Answers come to him by the millions yet one stands away from the rest. Maybe…

he preferred 

red. 


End file.
